The Carrot Farm

Have you ever wondered why some people feel that it's ok to pay one for their work in what I like to call carrots?

This was my life for some time, my salary was just that. Like a donkey I would slog through my work and at the end of a hard day's work guess what not even a word of praise (raise). Only words of fake promise of a better future.

So what must one do? Work and slog harder in the hopes that one day this future would actually materialise or just lay down and die. No! To die is not the way we were taught so the only alternative well that's to work harder isn't it?

On some days I don't feel like getting out of bed at all but alas my work awaits and yes that terrible bunch of carrots that look like the world yet are nothing but a dried up pipe dream! How it crushes one's soul and drains one's life away.

Hi there, my name is Haley Adams and this is my story. It all began when I turned 18 and got my first job. I was roped into the family business, working for the Adams's was a dream come true and so that was what I thought for a long long time.

The business was good not the best it could be, but still good at least from a work perspective. Unfortunatly the pay was not enough to get one through the month yet always the promise for more loomed over my head.

My family is in the textile industry you see and my job at first was general admin etc. This was only a temporary position as I would become one of the companies best designers after I finished my studies.

Well life goes on hey and so I did my job and completed my studies and moved up to head designer but still the farm kept on churning out those damn carrots. Over time I began to despise even real carrots and could not bear the site of them. I really hate carrots now. "Only a year and you will be earning a top salary." They would say but what happened nothing … absolutely nothing. Just more empty promises.

I began to wonder if my family was not being delusional in what they said every time they would offer me a carrot. Could they actually believe this garbage they spouted. Then I didn't know. Maybe it was hope on their part or maybe it was just a way of keeping me a slave because I was actually the best at what I did and they profited from my hard work.

This was when it started to happen, I didn't just hate the carrots from the farm but the hate started to shift to my family members themselves and sadly I would eventually find myself hating not only them but everyone and everything. As the years pasted the hate began to eat away at the very essence of my soul.

Dying inside a slow death what was I to do, how was I going to save myself I saw no was clear there was no light at the end of my tunnel. One-day filled with despair I just lay there and for the first time just prayed really prayed and out came to me the answer.

Without a single word I left, cut my ties and left, I went far away from this place and became a hermit. There in those lonely days I began to rejuvenate my spirit. Years later I found that I could love myself again and through this forgive and love others again.